


Mala Tara Aravas, Ara Ma'Desen Melar (Your Mind Journeys, But I Will Hold You Here)

by spilledinkstains (LuLu_ZuZu99)



Series: Single-Mom Lavellan One-Shots [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: (sort of sdklfjl), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 10:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17322899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuLu_ZuZu99/pseuds/spilledinkstains
Summary: Pre-ship Varric/Inky being mildly domestic while taking care of Revanas, but also each other."All Ivuna wanted to do was fall into bed, but she had responsibilities to attend first… well, one anyway. She smiled, increasing her pace the slightest bit as she made her way up towards her quarters. She pauses on the top step, leaning against the banister, a smile on her face. There Revanas stood, eyes wide and hands clasped together as she listened to the yarn Varric was spinning her before the fire. She bounced on her toes, little mouth forming large “O’s whenever something particularly exciting happened."





	Mala Tara Aravas, Ara Ma'Desen Melar (Your Mind Journeys, But I Will Hold You Here)

**Author's Note:**

> Posted unedited at almost 2:00 AM bc my power might go out soon and I want this up before that happens, just in case. 
> 
> [This is the song Ivuna sings](https://youtu.be/Zl3CmzQY1So)! I cannot recommend this version of it enough, it's gorgeous and the singer also has a free download link for it! :D
> 
> Enjoy!

The sun has almost set by the time everyone has settled back at Skyhold, beautiful violets fading into deep oranges behind the mountains. Their party, the usual four and some scouts they had picked up along the way, had split as soon as they had arrived. A few people headed to the baths, majority to the tavern, and the most tired of them right to bed. Ivuna had intended to stay behind and help untack and brush the horses, but Dennet had shooed her out of the stables before she could even think to.

 

“That’s what you pay me and mine for Inquisitor,” was he all he had said, before closing the stable doors firmy behind her. Ivuna had smiled; he was a man of few words, but she appreciated him all the same.

 

All Ivuna wanted to do was fall into bed, but she had responsibilities to attend first… well, one anyway. She smiled, increasing her pace the slightest bit as she made her way up towards her quarters. She pauses on the top step, leaning against the banister, a smile on her face. There Revanas stood, eyes wide and hands clasped together as she listened to the yarn Varric was spinning her before the fire. She bounced on her toes, little mouth forming large “O’s whenever something particularly exciting happened. From where she stood, Ivuna heard only snippets, something about a dragon in a mine. The tale sounded familiar, but it was cut off by Revanas’ high-pitched squeal when she noticed her mother. In seconds, Revanas had flung herself across the room and Ivuna had an armful of giggly, wiggly six year-old. Heaving exaggeratedly, Ivuna adjusted the girl on her hip, walking towards Varric as she did so.

 

“Well, Mamae is _very_ happy to see you too, lovely girl!” Ivuna wiggled her fingers along Revanas’ side, delighting in the happy squeal it evoked. Ivuna stops next to Varric, who is quick to vacate his chair for her, snatching one for himself from the corner of the room and dragging it in front of the fireplace. She sits, plopping Revanas in her lap as she does so, the girl happily babbling about her time with “Mister Varric”. Ivuna listens intently, gasping in all the right places as Revanas tells her all she missed during their week apart. Preoccupied, she only just notices Varric leaving the room, raising a brow in question when he does. He waves her concerns away, a mouthed “be back soon” setting her at ease. She settles back into the chair, absentmindedly carding her fingers through her daughters long, black locks.

 

“- and then Mister Varric took us down to see Missus Cook b-because he said I earned a treat! And so Missus Cook gave me a _whole entire muffin_ , Mamae! And so Mister Varric said that for every chapter I read by my own, I can have a _whole_ muffin, a-all fo- ” her sentence breaks on a yawn. She tries again, eyes drooping. “All for myself, and.. And… an’ he said that I learned _really_ fast Mamae, like a super fast kid an- and,” Another yawn. Ivuna smiles down at her daughter tucking herself closer to her mother’s body. Slowly, Ivuna stands and walks towards the smaller room off her main quarters. It had been stocked with casks originally, with good intentions surely, but Ivuna had brought up the issue of a sleeping area for Revanas, and Josie had been quick to acquire a small bed, chest of drawers, and even an adorable quilted blanket, patterned with nugs for the little one. (It had brought tears to Ivuna’s eyes, though she would deny so to any who mentioned it.) She ducks past the curtain separating their spaces; setting Revanas on her bed, helping the little girl out of her tunic and breeches and into her sleeping gown (another gift courtesy of Josie), before tucking her underneath the nug quilt. All the while, Revanas keeps a steady stream of words going, though they start dropping off as she does.

Ivuna sits on the side of Revanas’ bed, waiting for her daughter to tire herself out. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, Rev’s little body gets the best of her and she begins to drift off. Ivuna kisses her daughters forehead, standing to leave when she feels a tug on her sleeve.

 

Ivuna looks down at Revanas, “Yes, love?”

 

Revanas pouts and asks, “What about my night-night story from Varric?” Ivuna smiles, leaning down to tuck a strand of her daughter hair from her face.

 

“Has Mister Varric been telling you stories da’len?” Revanas nods, emphasizing her pout. Ivuna huffs out a laugh. “How about…” she think for a moment. “How about a song from Mamae? Is that acceptable, love?”

 

Revanas lights up, nodding quickly while tucking her chin into her blankets, chasing the warmth it gave. Ivuna clears her throat, then, with a flick of her fingers, sets a tune to playing from thin air.  It’s a lilting tune, something her own mother used to sing her to sleep with as a babe. It was one of the precious few memories she has from her childhood, and so she sings it with a certain emotion she hesitates to call melancholy, but is surely something close. She breathes in, then-

 

_“Elgara vallas, da’len_ (Sun sets, little one,)

_Melava somniar_ (Time to dream)

_Mala tara aravas_ (Your mind journeys)

_Ara ma’desen  melar_ (But I will hold you here)

 

_Iras ma ghilas, da’len_ (Where will you go, little one,)

_Aras ma’nedan ashir_ (Lost to me in sleep?)

_Dirthara lothenan’as_ (Seek truth in a forgotten land)

_Balemma mala dir_ (Deep within your heart)

 

_Tel’enfenim, da’len_ (Never fear, little one)

_Irassal ma ghilas_ (Wherever you shall go)

_Ma garas mir renan_ (Follow my voice)

_Ara ma’athlan vhenas_ (I will call you home)

_Ara ma’athlan vhenas_ (I will call you home) _”_

 

As she lets the last note fade away, so too does little Revanas, finally giving into sleep. Ivuna kisses her forehead again. “On nydha, da’len,” she whispers, before leaving the room, pulling the curtain closed behind her as she goes. She turns around and her heart jumps when she sees the figure standing there. “Great Mythall, Varric,” she smacks his arm. “What have I told you about standing around? One of these days I’m going to… Varric are you quite all right?”

 

Varric, seemingly coming out of whatever stupor he had been in, shakes his head almost violently. He points an accusing finger at her, mouth hanging opening. “You can _sing_?” he finally asks.

 

Ivuna simply blinks, before nodding. “Music is a large part of our culture,” she explains. “Songs to the gods, songs of our history, songs to keep our minds off of our aching feet and on the task at hand.” She smirks. “There may or may not also be a few dirty songs some fellow firsts and I translated into Elvhen, to the great annoyance of our hahrens.”

 

That seems to bring the Varric she’s used to back. He smirks, though it becomes a grin soon enough, as he flops back into one of the chairs in front of her fireplace. “Hawke cannot sing worth a damn, sounds like a dying demon honestly,” he points at her again. “You, my friend, could put Maryden out of a job.”

 

Ivuna laughs, “And do what, my friend, sing in taverns around Thedas while Maryden strums at the rifts?” She joins him in front of the fire, sitting on the great bear fur spread before it. “No, I think I’m quite content limiting my musical ventures to singing Revanas to sleep.”

 

“Suit yourself,” he responds, “but, know that by tomorrow I’ll have a betting pool going and I intend on winning it by any means necessary.”

 

“I’ll help you with that then, you can consider your winnings repayment for watching Revanas on such short notice.”

 

The grin on his face wanes slightly. “Hey, what have _I_ said about even mentioning paying me for the honor of following that kid around?”

 

“That I should keep offering until you accept?” she responds coyly.

 

His shakes his head and drops the topic, moving on. “ _Anyways_ ,” he says, “want to tell me why you had to rush off to Redcliffe with Sparkler?”

 

And just like that, the mood plummets. “It was…” she pauses, trying to figure out how to word things. Varric waits patiently, as he always does, letting her gather her thoughts. She goes with the facts first, telling him of the letter; the desired secrecy; “Which I rejected outright”, she says; and finally the confrontation in the tavern. Here she feels herself become more emotional.

 

“It’s silly, isn’t it, to see myself in him? We’ve led such different lives, and yet… when faced with the basics of our situations, he seems almost like a- a brother in arms. And I wanted to tell him, ‘I understand’ , but I didn’t know how to do so while also not minimizing what he went through? Because, obviously, there are some large differences but I… I know what it like, to- to go against what is expected of you and become your own person. To have to walk your own path, even if it seems like the scariest thing you have ever faced, and to become stronger for it, yet still wish somewhere in your heart that you could… be what they expect?” Ivuna brings up her knees, hiding her face in them for a moment. When she raises her face, she can feel a single tear slip down her face, can feel the itchy trail it leaves behind. She wipes it away, more out of discomfort than shame.

 

(She has long stopped feeling such a thing around Varric. She wonders for a moment what it means, that she is so willing to be this open and vulnerable in front of him, but when she feels that familiar tug in her chest she brushes it aside. Now is not the time and it never will be. She ignore it, and presses on.)

 

“So, yes, that’s why we needed to rush out. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing one would want to leave hanging, so to speak.” She glances up at Varric and suddenly their eyes meet. (She feels that same tug in her chest, again. She ignores it, again.) She breaks off the contact, staring into the fire.

 

They sit together in silence, the both of them processing her words. Finally, after what seems like an age, Varric speaks, slowly, a way of letting her know how much thought he is putting into the words before he says them aloud.

 

“I think you answered your own question, Ivuna.” She looks at him quizzically. He continues, “You tell him that you know what he’s going through, that you’re there for him if need be, and then you let him come to you if he feels that he wants to. That’s how you get it in his head that you understand, to a degree, while also keeping your story to yourself and his to himself. If you both decide to… to let it all out, then you can, but I think just letting him know you’re there? Will be enough.”

 

Another silence hangs for a few minutes, interrupted shortly by a knock at the bottom of the stairs. Ivuna springs to her feet, scrubbing at her eyes roughly and clearing her throat.

 

“Come up,” she responds to the knock. A woman, human and in a basic tunic and breeches, makes her way up the stairs, slowly, so as to not drop the contents on the wooden tray she carries. Upon it sits a tankard, a loaf of bread, and a bowl of what Ivuna’s nose identifies as the cooks beef stew, one of her favorites. The woman walks towards the small table between the two chairs, setting the tray down and bowing.

 

“Dinner, your worship, as was requested,” she says. “One of my people will be up in a few with some water and a tub for a bath, milady. May I assume you can heat the water yourself, or would you like a heating rune to be brought with it as well?”

 

Ivuna looks to Varric, who only smiles, before she nods to the servant. “Yes, I can heat it myself, of course. Thank you…” she trails off, unsure of the woman's name.

 

The maid bows, once again. “Mallory, milady. If there’s nothing else you require, I’ll take my leave?”

 

Ivuna nods yet again,  “Yes of course, Mallory. Thank you.” With another small bow, the woman backs away before turning and making her way down the steps and out the door to the main hall.

 

The silence this time is less pressing. Ivuna approaches the tray, lifting the tankard to her lips and trying a sip. Seemingly hit by a sudden thirst, she gulps it down in a few swallows. Setting it on the tray, she then moves on the the bread, tearing off a piece and popping it into her mouth. _It’s still warm_. A quiet moan slips from her lips, and she’s quick to devour the rest of the meal. When she comes out of her daze, Varric is staring at her with an indecipherable look on his face. Ivuna blushes, hurriedly wiping her face on the sleeve of her overcoat. She pauses, gathering her courage, before she steps forward, bending down to be level with him sitting in her chair, and planting a small peck on his cheek. She backs away, quickly, and clears her throat.

 

“Thank you, Varric, this was all… _very_ sweet of you.” Before he can respond, another knock sounds at the bottom of the stairs.

 

“May we bring up the bathing things, milady?” a voice asks. Ivuna walks to the stairs.

 

“Yes, of course, thank you! If you could keep things a little quiet, I would appreciate it,” Ivuna requests, “my daughter is asleep.” The maid nods, the blond braid on her head bouncing.

 

“We shall, milady. The woman comes up, setting down the towel and soaps she carries. She spots Varric, and blinks. “Would- would you like a moment before we come back, your worship?”

 

Ivuna’s blush, only now fading, rushes back to her cheeks. “Th-that won’t be necessary. He, uh, he will be leaving soon.”

 

The maid nods. “We’ll be back in a jiffy, then, milady.” She bows and leaves.

 

The door shuts below and Varric stands, gathering his coat, and makes his way to the stairs. There, the two of them stand, unable to meet the eyes of the other. Varric speaks first this time.

“Well, I better head out then,” he says.

 

“Yes, yes… you, ah, you best take your leave before they return. Wouldn’t want to fuel the servant’s gossip ring any more than we already have.” Ivuna reaches a hand out, as if for a handshake, and apparently this just won’t do, as Varric mutters a quiet “ah, sod it” as he tugs her towards him, enveloping her in a tight hug. She squeaks, but relaxes into the embrace all the same.

 

“Goodnight, Ivuna,” he mutters into her neck. She shivers.

 

“On nydha, Ma’av’in,” she returns.

 

She stares at the stairs long after he’s left. _What have you gotten yourself into now, Ivuna?_

 

* * *

 

 

The rocks are smooth under Ivuna’s fingers, as she walks up the curved staircase towards the library. Cool and smooth, with only the occasional imperfection gently snagging on her finger pad. As she makes her way upwards, she thinks of what she should say. Venting at Varric last night had helped, but there’s only so much another person can do to help. As she makes it to the top, spotting Dorian only a little ways away, she understands that.  _ Doesn’t make this any less nerve wracking _ , she thinks to herself. Regardless, she knows she needs to do this. To leave something like that to fester… she knows the consequences of such a thing, and she won’t let someone she is fast accepting as a friend become the bitter person she knows she was so close to being, long ago. She takes a deep breath. She walks towards Dorian’s nook. She lets out the breath. 

“Dorian,” she starts, “Do you have a moment?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ivuna goes with the following dialogue options in the conversation with Dorian:
> 
> “Don’t leave it like this, Dorian. You’ll never forgive yourself.”  
> /// and ///  
> “Maker knows what you must think of me…”  
> “I think you’re very brave.”  
> “Brave?”  
> “It’s not easy to abandon tradition and walk your own path.”
> 
> Let me know what you thought and please let me know of any glaring grammar/spelling mistakes!
> 
> xoxo  
> Lulu


End file.
